Well this is awkward, isn't it?
by ilava
Summary: Remus Lupin knows he is a generally awkward person. His parents know, his teachers know, his classmates know, and his friends - they probably know better than anybody else. Another typical Sirius/Remus getting together at Hogwarts fic :D
1. Party

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything, while I own nothing. Sob.**

**Anyway, this is my first proper R/S fic, hope it's not too cliche, I am _trying_ to be original lol.**

**Reviews are love. Hope you enjoy :)**

--

Remus Lupin knows he is a generally awkward person. He isn't the only one - everybody who knows him knows that he is awkward. His parents know, his teachers know, his classmates know, and his friends - they probably know better than anybody else.

Possibly the most awkward situation he can think of is one that others seem to find the most fun - parties. And, even though it is his birthday and he can think of nothing he'd love more than to curl up with a mug of hot chocolate and a book, his party is well underway. There must be fifty people smashed into the Gryffindor common room, and Remus doesn't even know who most of them are.

"C'mon Remus!" Peter cries, slinging a drunken arm about his shoulders - which is no mean feat, considering Remus is almost a head taller than him. "Just have one little drink, it's your birthday mate!"

Peter shoves a little plastic cup into Remus' hand, and he eyes it suspiciously.

"What exactly is this?" He asks, sniffing it dubiously.

"I dunno, something Prongs is giving everyone. Doesn't taste too bad."

Remus can almost feel his lips pursing in disapproval as Peter downs the rest of the unknown substance from his own cup. How? He thinks, desperately. How on earth can you just stand there and _drink_ something when you don't even know what it is? Especially when _James_ concocted it, and there's obviously alcohol involved - there's no possible way it could end well. He tilts his own cup from side to side, watching the liquid with distaste.

"Are you going to drink that, Moony?"

He looks up and sees Sirius making his way purposely towards them. His hair is in a mess, and has somehow managed to lose his shirt - but still has his tie perfectly fastened about his neck.

"Er, well, actually-"

"I'll take that as a no, then," Sirius grabs the cup and unceremoniously pours the entire contents down his throat. He coughs.

"Padfoot! That was meant to be Moony's birthday drink," Peter chides, swaying slightly and glaring indignantly somewhere over Sirius' left shoulder.

"Oh, come off it, it's not like he would have drunk it anyway."

Remus sighs. There's no point even pretending to deny it.

"REMUS!" James bellows from the other side of the common room, making everyone jump. "You haven't drunk anything! What travesty is this!"

"I-"

"No! I don't care, Moony" James lurches towards his three friends, four cups in his hands sloshing amber liquid onto the carpet. He passes a cup to Sirius, one to Peter, and finally, deliberately, pushes one into Remus' unwilling hands. "I don't care" he repeats. "You are going to drink that, because it is your birthday, and you have to."

"But-"

"No! On three, marauders!"

"One," Sirius says, smiling wickedly and raising his cup. "Two.."

"THREE!" James yells, throwing his head back and downing his drink.

Remus takes a tentative sip, and pulls a face.

"James, what is this? It's disgusting."

"You didn't drink it!" James cries. "You- he didn't drink it! Make him drink it!"

"Drink up, mate" Sirius says. He grabs Remus' hand and forces the cup up into his face. Remus blanches at the smell, but finally gives in and gulps it down. He makes a sort of gurgling, choking noise, and lapses into a terrific fit of coughing.

"Good man!" Sirius says, clapping Remus on the back. "Prongs, get another round for the birthday boy!"

If there's one thing, Remus muses, that he hates more than parties, it is alcohol. First there's the horrid taste, then the dizziness and disorientation, then the throwing up. And, of course, the headache the next morning that Sirius and James mucking about making lots of noise won't help at all.

"No," he says, smiling ruefully. "One's enough for me, I-"

But James is already there, pushing another cup into his hand, spilling about half of it down Remus' shirt front. Well, he thinks, at least that means there's less for him to drink. He looks at his friends' expectant faces and sighs.

"You're not going to leave me alone until I drink this, are you?"

"Nope!" Sirius says, cheerfully.

Remus rolls his eyes, and pours the foul liquid in his mouth. His eyes water, and he can feel his face squinching up in distaste, but he swallows it.

"That was the last one. No more. That is truly, just _awful_."

"Ah well," James says. "That's still two more than last year, we're definitely making progress here."

"Definitely," Sirius agrees. He pats his stomach and looks around expectantly. "Merlin, I'm hungry. Are there any snacks left?"

Remus suddenly recognizes an opportunity for escape.

"Um, no," he says, praying he doesn't sound too hopeful. "But I could go and raid the kitchen?"

"Brilliant!" Sirius cries, his eyes lighting up. "This man.. brilliant. Let's go."


	2. Surprise

Remus had been hoping for a peaceful stroll to the kitchens and back, but he supposes that even being stuck under the cloak with a drunk, half naked Sirius Black is preferable to being stuck in the common room full of drunk, half naked strangers. Although a drunk Sirius Black can be loud, obnoxious, and uncoordinated, at least Remus knows what to expect.

They stick close to the walls, in hopes that the shadows will cover any errant foot that sticks out from under the cloak. Also, so that Sirius has something to lean against to prevent him from falling over every time he trips over his own feet.

Remus wishes he'd brought some kind of bucket. He hadn't realised how drunk his friend really is, and is not looking forward to being the inevitable receptacle for Sirius' vomit.

"Ow, Pads, that was my toe"

"What? Are we going the right way? I don't think we're-"

"Yes, we're going the right way. I thought you'd know your way to the kitchens better than anybody."

"Are you saying I eat too much? Are you calling me_ fat_, Moony? My fragile ego is shattered."

"Fragile? Ow, toe again. I think I should walk ahead, you-"

"Oh, alright, hang on I'll just-"

"Ah! Toe! What are you-"

Sirius somehow manages to get himself tangled in the cloak, tearing it off Remus completely, and falling gracelessly to the floor.

"Fuck," he says, and struggles to untangle himself.

"That looks bizarre."

"What? Haven't you ever seen a man in a life and death struggle with a large strip of material before?"

"No, I mean parts of you keep turning invisible and- do you need some help with that?"

"No. Ow. Bugger. Maybe?"

Remus chuckles and kneels down to assist. A struggle ensues. Sirius has somehow, ridiculously, managed to entwine the cloak around both his legs, his left arm, and his neck.

"Agh! My hair!"

"Sorry, just turn your head to the- right, okay, now just-"

"Ahaha! Moony, stop! That tickles!"

"What, this?"

"Ahahaha, no, no stop! Stop! Unfair tactics!"

Sirius' laughter is infectious - Remus can feel himself starting to giggle. Before long the two boys are leaning against the wall, clutching their sides from laughter. Somewhere in the back of his mind Remus is dimly aware that neither of them are covered by the cloak, that a professor could be lurking-

His train of thought is promptly derailed as Sirius leans over mid-cackle and kisses him on the mouth.

There is a beat of silence. Neither boy moves a single muscle, their eyes wide and staring at each other in shock.

_My God_, Remus thinks, insanely. _Sirius looks really, really odd this close up_.

After a moment, Sirius pulls back.

"Oh, _fuck_," he says, with feeling. "Sorry."

Remus still doesn't move. He feels frozen to the spot, his mouth tingling.

Suddenly, they hear footsteps at the end of the corridor. Survival instinct taking over, Remus tears the cloak from Sirius' ankle and throws it over the both of them, scooting closer to ensure it covers them completely. They sit in silence, hardly daring to breathe, as Filch prowls past muttering darkly to himself.

When Filch has rounded the corner, and the sound of his footsteps has faded, Remus steals a look at Sirius' face. He is rather disconcerted to realise that his friends' face is only inches from his own, his eyes blazing in the darkness.

For possibly the first time in Remus Lupin's life, he acts completely without thought. Before he even knows what he's doing, he has pulled Sirius' mouth to his, and they're kissing. Remus has never really kissed anyone before, he had always thought it would be rather awkward, with saliva, teeth, tongues, and all manner of other vile things. But this, surprisingly, isn't awkward at all.

Sirius tastes quite strongly of alcohol, but somehow that isn't at all unpleasant. Their mouths move together for what seems an eternity, neither boy breaking the kiss, even to breathe. Finally, in a passionate lurch forward, Sirius slips and jabs Remus sharply in the eye with his nose.

"Agh!" Remus cries, pulling back and clapping a hand over his eye.

"Oh, God! Moony, was that your eye?"

"Merlin! It used to be."

Sirius grabs Remus' wrist and pulls his hand away.

"Look at me," he says. Remus complies. "I think it's alright. It looks alright, I mean."

"Right," Remus says, breaking eye contact and jerking his hand away. "I think it's okay."

Silence yawns between them. Remus is looking at his hands, down the corridor, anywhere to avoid looking at Sirius' face. Or his naked upper half. He clears his throat.

"Ah, should we get to the kitchens, then?"

"You know," Sirius says, sounding uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "I really don't think I'm hungry. I mean, I was, but I think- I think I'm not. Anymore."

"Ah" Remus says. He can't think of anything else to say. Silence descends once again.

He sneaks a peek at Sirius' face, just in time to see his expression contort alarmingly. He worries for a moment that his friend is going to yell at him - until Sirius pitches forward and throws up all over Remus' trousers.

"Ugh" Sirius moans.

He straightens up, and begins to swat at Remus' pant leg. He is clearly trying to transfer the vomit onto the floor, but is really only succeeding in spreading it around. A semi-hysterical giggle escapes from Remus' lips. Sirius looks up, his face a mask of horror. The moment their eyes meet, they both burst out laughing.

"Oh Merlin" Remus finally manages to choke out. "That's.. that's so dis_gus_ting Padfoot you _vomited_ on my _pants -_ I think I'm going to have to burn these."

"Oh _shit_, Moony" Sirius laughs. He looks down at his hand, covered in his own vomit, and looks around for somewhere to wipe it. Unable to find anything, he settles for rubbing his hand ineffectually on the stone floor. He stands, wobbling slightly, and offers his unsoiled hand to Remus.

"Let's get back to the common room, then. I need a fucking shower."


	3. Confused

**I just couldn't decide what direction I wanted to go in with this – so I wrote about sixty different versions, and finally settled on this one, lol. Sorry it's so short! Next part will be in soon :)**

**Thank you so much to everybody who has reviewed :D**

--

Sunlight is already seeping through his curtains by the time Remus finally makes it to his bed. His head is spinning, and he's not sure whether it's due to tiredness, lingering effects of alcohol, or maybe _kissing_ his _best friend_ on the _mouth_.

He doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand why Sirius kissed him in the first place, and he certainly doesn't understand why he kissed him back. The only part he can make any sense of at all is why the two of them spent the rest of the evening pretending as though nothing had happened. Kissing your best friend when under the influence of alcohol, he is sure, falls under the category of Things You Never Mention Again.

He covers his face with his pillow, and lies still for a long time. Maybe, he thinks, if he _pretends_ to be asleep, eventually his brain will believe him.

Somebody who clearly thinks they are being stealthy and quiet pulls open his curtains. Remus peeks out from underneath his pillow, just in time to see Sirius climb into bed beside him. He makes a completely involuntary noise, and Sirius smiles like a cheshire cat, his teeth glowing in the half-light. He pulls the pillow off Remus' head.

"Wotcher, Moony," he whispers, his face very close. His breath smells like whiskey.

Remus opens his mouth to say something, maybe to ask why Sirius hasn't brushed his teeth and if he's really planning on going to bed with a mouth full of whiskey fumes, but Sirius interrupts him.

"Don't," he says. "Just, shut up for a bit, alright?"

"But-"

Remus' protest is cut off by Sirius' lips, soft against his own. Sirius pulls back after a moment, and smiles again.

"Okay?" He says.

Remus stares at him, blankly. He can almost feel little bits of his brain exploding in utter confusion.

"Is this- is this something you've put a lot of thought into? Some kind of birthday ambush?"

"Well, you are now officially A Man," Sirius says, logically. "It's really only fitting for a Marauder to be molested on such an occasion."

"I'm fairly sure you become A Man on your eighteenth, not your seventeenth."

"Well, whichever. It would be unsporting to leave you pure as the driven snow on the- oh, bugger it. No, I haven't. Since when do I put a lot of thought into anything?"

"Pranks," says Remus. "You do put a lot of thought into pranks."

"It's not a prank," Sirius says, dryly.

Remus wants very much to convey just how confused he is, but he has a sinking feeling that if he says _anything,_ Sirius will storm out, and the two of them will spend the rest of eternity being awkward and Never Mentioning It Again. Besides, Sirius' eyes are very bright, and his lips are very soft, and what Remus really wants has nothing to do with saying anything, anyway.

Very slowly, he slides a hand around the back of Sirius' neck, and pulls him down to meet his lips.

--

"Moony? Me and Wormtail are going down to get breakfast, you coming?"

"Ngggff."

James rips open Remus' curtains and starts jostling his shoulder.

"Come on! It's almost noon."

"Yeah," says Peter. "If you're hungover you're officially the lightest weight in Hogwarts history."

Remus buries his head under his pillow. _I'm not hungover_, he wants to shout, _I just couldn't get to sleep until about two hours ago because I couldn't stop thinking about kissing Padfoot. On the mouth. When he wasn't wearing a shirt._

"Pathetic," James says. "He's as bad as Sirius."

Remus' stomach does a strangle little flip-flop.

"Lets just eat his breakfast for him" Peter suggests, looking hopeful.


	4. Secret

**Sorry about my prolonged absence! -kicks RL-**

---

About ten minutes after Peter and James left the dormitory, Remus drags himself out of bed. As tired as he is, he knows it's useless to try and get back to sleep. Besides, he can hear Sirius snoring, and he realises it is probably better he has his breakfast before Sirius comes down. Sitting there grinning stupidly at him or turning bright red most likely wouldn't help anything.

He is halfway through his breakfast when James suddenly drops his slice of toast and lets out a startled squark.

"Moony!" He cries. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Remus freezes, a spoonful of porridge halfway into his open mouth. That's impossible, he tells himself, they can't know, they _can't-_

"What?" Peter says, frowning.

"Look!" James leans across the table and yanks down Remus' collar, causing him to jump and spill porridge all down the front of his shirt. "Look at _that_!"

Remus pulls away and frantically starts swatting at his shirt with a napkin.

"What on earth-"

"Moony! You've got a_ love bite_!" Peter cries. "A huge one! How did you- where? Who?"

Remus drops the napkin and pulls his collar down, craning his neck in an attempt to look at his own collar-bone. He can see the bite, just the edge of it in the corner of his eye. Peter's right. It's rather a big one.

"Ah," he says, more to himself than anybody else. "Bugger."

"Bugger? You finally- and you say _bugger_?"

James and Peter are staring at him like he's grown a second head. He's really not sure what is more dismaying, the fact that they're so genuinely surprised that anybody would want to give him a love bite, or the fact that he's _so hopeless_ at keeping secrets that it's been less than twenty-four hours and he's already doomed. He pulls his collar back up self-conciously, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Well, come on," James says. "Spill it, who was it?"

"Yeah," Peter chimes in. "Was it one of the Hufflepuffs Sirius invited? Oh! Was it the one with the big-"

Sirius chooses this moment to plonk himself down next to Remus. He looks like absolute hell, there are dark circles under his eyes and his hair is sticking out in all directions. Remus looks down at his lap and tries valiantly to control his features.

"Padfoot," James says, leaning across the table conspiratorially. "You'll never guess what our Moony got up to last night."

Sirius' head snaps up, his eyes wide. He stares at Remus, horror stricken.

"No," Remus babbles, hurriedly. "No, it's not-"

"It_ is _a big deal, mate," Peter interjects. "Very auspicious, getting your first hickey on your seventeenth birthday."

"Your first _what?_" Sirius barks. He grabs Remus by the arm and yanks roughly at his collar. He blinks. "Whoa."

Remus wants to laugh at the comically blank expression on Sirius' face. Instead he forces himself to jerk away and go back to his porridge, not meeting anybody's eyes.

"So was it?" Peter asks. "The Hufflepuff?"

"Er," Remus says, still looking at his breakfast. "I don't- I'm not sure who you're talking about."

"You know, that fourth year bird, the blonde one. With the huge-"

"No," Sirius says, suddenly. "I saw her off with some Ravenclaw bloke, it couldn't have been her."

Remus risks a glance at Sirius. He's smiling, a wicked glint in his eye. Remus swallows.

"I think," he says, pushing his bowl away. "I think I'm done with breakfast. I need a clean shirt."

---

Remus considers himself very lucky that his friends are so fond of their food - he is sure that had it not been a mealtime, they would have followed him back to the common room, interrogating all the while. As it is, they are probably just planning how best to ambush him later.

He sighs, shucking his clothes and grabbing a towel. He throws his porridge-covered shirt on top of a pile of other dirty clothes, wondering idly if Sirius is purposely and systematically trying to soil all of his clean laundry.

In the bathroom he runs an almost painfully hot shower, and stands beneath the spray with his eyes closed. _Stop bloody thinking about it_, he thinks, but it's useless.

It's completely ridiculous_._ Remus has known since first year that Sirius is good looking. He's all big grey eyes and shaggy hair and aristocratic charm - there have always been girls trailing after him everywhere. He doesn't understand why he's really only beginning to _notice_ Sirius's good looks now, when they are least convenient and stop him from being able to form a coherent thought. Or, rather, he understands perfectly, but really, really wishes he didn't.

He gives up on the shower and, swathed in a towel, goes to brush his teeth. He is halfway through brushing when he looks up in the mirror and realises Sirius is standing behind him. He inhales half of his toothpaste and starts coughing wildly, spraying foam all over the mirror in front of him - Sirius comes forward and smacks him helpfully on the back.

"Prongs and Wormtail still at breakfast, then?" Remus sputters, finally.

"Yeah."

Remus averts his eyes and spits into the sink. He coughs again. He is suddenly very aware that he is only wearing a towel, and is thankful for his coughing fit for providing him with an excuse to be bright red in the face.

"So," he says, to distract himself from his state of undress. "Nice party last night."

As soon as the words leave his mouth he wants the floor to open up and swallow him, but Sirius just laughs.

"Nice, huh? I should throw up on your trousers more often. Dirty werewolf."

Remus laughs a little uncomfortably. His mind is screaming at him to say something, to ask Sirius just what the _hell _is going on. Instead, he focuses an inordinate amount of attention to rinsing his toothbrush.

When he looks up, Sirius is staring at him in the mirror. He swallows. Hard.

In the time it takes him to turn around - slowly, deliberately - Sirius is right there in front of him. He smiles, and it's some combination of innocence and evil that Remus will never understand. Remus moves forward instinctively, and then they're kissing.

This isn't the same as the night before, although Sirius's lips do actually still taste vaguely of alcohol. It is not in the middle of the night, nobody is drunk, and it is _definitely_ not an accident. Remus feels as though something has exploded in the pit of his stomach.

Sirius trails one hand down to rest on Remus' hip, and Remus gasps, suddenly remembering that he is very, _very_ naked underneath his precariously tied bath towel. He wants to protest, but Sirius takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into Remus' mouth, effectively shutting down his ability to protest to _anything_.

There is a sudden crash from the direction of the door, and Sirius leaps back as though electrocuted. He walks over and pokes his head out.

"What the hell was that?" He demands.

There is a pause, and Peter shuffles into the bathroom, looking slightly frightened.

"Lily Evans punched Prongs in the face," he explains. "Again. He, uh, didn't take it too well."

He blinks, and then his face breaks out into a grin. He gestures at Remus' neck.

"That love bite really is something, Moony."

Remus hopes that neither of his friends can tell that his entire body, including his brain, feels like one giant flobberworm. He clutches at the sink for support, trying not to be obvious about it.

"Uh," he says, his voice wobbling slightly. He winces and clears his throat. "I. Well. Why did Lily punch him?"

"We ran into Snivellus on the way back from breakfast," Peter says. Sirius smiles wickedly.

"Did you try out that new spell we looked up?"

"Yeah, it worked _brilliantly_. You should have seen it!"

Sirius laughs, perhaps a little louder than necessary, and gives Peter a high-five. There is a beat of silence, and then Peter frowns, obviously only just realising something amiss.

"Why are you guys hanging out in the bathroom?"

"I was just leaving," Remus says, and flees.


	5. Complicated

**Again, so much love for all your awesome reviews! :D**

---

"I'm actually trying to work, you know," Remus sighs, trying to pull his parchment out from under James' elbow. It's been like this for hours, Remus trying valiantly to concentrate on his homework while James, Peter, and Sirius shoot questions at him.

James and Peter have gone through every single girl who had been at the party, and even quite a few who weren't. Remus has vehemently denied so much as speaking to any of them, and Sirius hasn't looked so amused since the month before when he spelled Snape's eyebrows hot pink.

"You're going to tell us one day," James says, smiling darkly. "We will find a way to get it out of you, one way or another."

"Oh, I don't doubt that."

"Look at that!" Sirius cries. "He's not even taking you seriously, Prongs."

"We will find a way," James repeats, more ominously this time. "Besides, I don't know why you're not more proud of all this, even Sirius didn't get a bird last night."

"Exactly," Sirius says, and Remus wants to hit him.

"Doing my homework," he says, instead.

"That paper isn't due for days," says James. "This is much more important."

"Only two days, actually, which I believe makes _it_ more important."

"Cor, look at him," Peter says, shaking his head in wonder. "He thinks a transfiguration essay is more important than a girl giving him a-"

"Giving him a what?"

Remus looks up to see Lily Evans making her way purposefully towards them. He groans inwardly - as much as he likes Lily, her effect on James is painful to watch. She's not even at their table yet and his hand has already gone to his hair.

"A _love_ _bite_," Sirius says, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously.

Lily walks over to Remus and inspects his neck. He bats her hand away, and she laughs.

"Have they figured out who gave it to you?"

She's smiling knowingly. Remus feels as though he just swallowed something cold and spiky.

"Erm," he says. "No."

"Did you see who it was?" James asks, his voice a little higher than usual. Lily doesn't even look at him.

"Of course I did," she says. Her eyes are still on Remus. "Don't look so frightened, Remus, it's okay to tell them."

_How could she know?_ Remus doesn't dare look over at Sirius.

"N-no," he stammers. "I'd really rather-"

"Oh, don't worry about it," she says, smiling prettily and turning to the others. "It was me."

She leans down and pecks Remus on the cheek, and then walks away, still smiling. Remus takes one look at the expressions on his friends' faces, makes a few sputtering noises, and then hurries after her.

"Um, hang on a minute Lily, I really don't-"

Lily presses one finger to his lips, and threads her arm through his, steering him out the portrait hole. The minute they pass through it she starts to laugh.

"Oh, Merlin! Did you see Potter's face?"

"Yes," Remus says. "Yes, I did. He's going to kill me Lily, he's probably planning it right now. He might actually disembowel me with a sharp object while I sleep. What on earth did you say that for?"

"Because, silly, I can tell you don't want them knowing who it really was. Besides, it's much more fun this way."

"Have you gone mad?"

"Oh, stop it Remus. I'll just tell them it was a one time thing, and they'll never ask you again."

"Of course they won't, because I'll be _dead_."

"Are you really that afraid of James?"

Remus runs a hand over his face.

"I - no. I'm not afraid of him. It's just- he really does like you, you know," he pauses. "This is terribly cruel."

"Because Potter would never do anything cruel to anybody else," Lily says, darkly. "I'm serious Remus, don't worry about it. You can tell them I just pulled you out here to dump you, if you like."

"Ugh," Remus says. Lily pats him on the shoulder.

"It'll be fine," she says, reassuringly. "Although, you know, I am rather curious. Who _was_ it?"

"Ugh," Remus says, again. He sighs. "I honestly can't tell you."

Lily glares at him, and he closes his eyes.

"Honestly, I can't. Sorry."

---

Remus doesn't even try returning to the common room, though his essay and all his books are still in there. Every time he thinks about the look on James' face he feels slightly queasy, and he has no intention of seeing it again if he can avoid it.

Instead, he goes to the library and begins work on an Astronomy essay due in a few weeks' time. He's quite happily immersed in study when somebody taps him on the shoulder, making him jump.

"Whoa, calm down, it's only me," says Peter, sitting down opposite him. "Though I can't really blame you for being jumpy, I think Prongs is going to kill you."

"Is he still angry?" Remus asks, chewing worriedly on the end of his quill. "He looked.. well. You saw him. Is he still like that?"

"I think worse, actually. Sirius is helping him plot some kind of revenge."

"What? _Sirius?_ Why?"

Peter gives him a curious look, and Remus flinches.

"Do you know what they're planning?" He asks. "Is there any way I can avoid it?"

"You know if you do they'll just plan something else," Peter says, wisely.

Remus groans. Peter stands up and claps him on the shoulder.

"Come on then, might as well get it over with," he says.

---

It's disconcerting that Peter won't walk less than two meters behind Remus the entire time, but he can't entirely blame him - the wrath of renowned pranksters Sirius Black and James Potter is definitely something to be feared. What makes no sense is how he has managed to incur the wrath of Sirius Black in the first place, but he is too busy searching for hidden traps or pranks to give it much thought.

After almost tripping up the stairs six times searching for trip steps, they finally reach the common room. When he walks in and sees James and Sirius sitting at one of the tables, heads bent together over a parchment no doubt covered in plans for his demise, his stomach does an odd flip flop. He tells himself it's the impending doom element of the situation, rather than the Sirius element. He steels himself, and makes his way towards them.

"Look," he says. "I'm sorry, Prongs, it wasn't- I mean, it didn't _mean_ anything, she just-"

James and Sirius regard him with identical looks of contempt. He swallows.

"I'm sorry," he says, again. "I- really. I'm sorry."

Sirius continues to glare, but James' resolve suddenly breaks.

"How?" James cries. "How did you? How? You have to- Christ. You're going to have to explain it to me, Moony."

"How.. what?"

"Years! I've been trying for years to get her to- even to- and you just- and how?!"

"Er," Remus says, avoiding looking at Sirius. "It just. I didn't try or anything I just-"

James pats the seat next to him. "Sit, Moony," he says, authoritatively. "Sit and tell us of your secrets, and you shall be forgiven."

"Us?" Sirius says, snorting. "You're alone in this one, I'm afraid. _I'm_ not quite at the stage of desperation where I need _Moony_ to teach me how to pick up."

Remus feels his entire face turn the colour of a well boiled beet. He looks to Sirius for some kind of explanation, but he won't meet his eyes.

"I think you're off the hook, mate," Peter whispers. Remus sighs. He definitely does not agree.


	6. Noises

**Two updates in two days! It's amazing! Haha.**

---

It is three in the morning when Remus is awoken by a loud rustling. He opens his eyes blearily, and sees Sirius in what appears to be some sort of epic battle with the curtains around his bed. Remus stares, confused and half asleep, until finally Sirius frees himself. He points his wand at the curtains and mutters a silencing spell. When he's done, he sits down on the bed and gives Remus an unreadable look.

"Alright," he says, without preamble. "It's not- I mean, I'm just wondering. Evans-"

"No," Remus says, his voice thick with sleep. He rubs his eyes. "Unless she snuck in and gave it to me after I went to sleep last night."

Sirius is still giving him a look, and Remus clears his throat.

"And I didn't tell her," he adds, as an afterthought. He shakes his head to clear it. "She asked, but I said I couldn't tell her who it was. She just- she said she could tell I didn't want you lot to know. And, well, you know how she is about Prongs. She thought it was hilarious."

Sirius laughs, darkly. "Not a bad prank, Evans. I think we're rubbing off on her, sneaky woman."

A few moments pass, and then Sirius leans over and pulls down the neck of Remus's pajama top. He runs his fingers along the mark on Remus's neck, and Remus feels his breath catch.

"Fuck," Sirius says, smiling and shaking his head. "I had no idea, I didn't even remember."

"Neither did I," Remus says, struggling to keep his voice level. He clears his throat again. "I didn't even notice it was there until Prongs went ballistic about it."

Sirius laughs again, his fingers still feather light on Remus's throat. Remus hopes his rapid heart beat isn't as obvious as it feels - though, considering Sirius's fingers are right on his pulse line, he fears that it probably is.

He feels as though he's about to burst, either from confusion or something unnamed building up in his chest. He can feel a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue, but by the time he finally works up his nerve and opens his mouth to ask one, he is interrupted.

"I'll have to be more careful in future," Sirius says, trailing his hand up to cup the side of Remus's face.

Remus doesn't have time to wonder what on _earth_ that is supposed to mean before Sirius's mouth comes down over his. Remus makes a little noise, and Sirius smiles against his lips.

They kiss, over and over, Sirius's tongue hot and wet in Remus's mouth. _This should be disgusting_, he thinks, _I have _morning_ breath_. _That's_ vile. But it isn't vile, and Sirius doesn't really seem to be minding much, and soon - probably about the same time Sirius threads his fingers into his hair - Remus's brain seems to disconnect.

Sirius begins to inch closer, and Remus reflexively slides his hands up to Sirius' back, pressing him down against him. Very carefully, without breaking the rhythm of their kisses, Sirius slides his legs across the bed, until he's lying completely on top of Remus, his knees on either side of Remus's thighs.

Remus has become uncomfortably aware of how much he is enjoying himself, and how obvious this must surely be. As soon as Sirius's hips slide on top of his, though, he realises that he is not alone in this sentiment. Completely involuntarily, he raises his hips slightly against Sirius's, and he feels a thrill all along his body when Sirius moans softly against his mouth.

Sirius begins to rock back and forth against him, and Remus gasps, feeling heat begin to pool low in his belly. It builds up, gradually at first, but then faster, and faster, and he feels as though-

"Stop," he gasps, pressing his hips down into the bed, trying to escape. "Stop, I'll-"

Sirius ignores him, pressing harder, and grinding along the length of him. Remus makes a sound halfway between a gasp and a moan. His hips convulse against Sirius's, grinding and pushing all of their own accord. Sirius bites Remus's lip, hard enough to draw blood, and lets out a low groan.

When it's over, Sirius collapses on top of him, breathing hard, and Remus feels a new kind of warmth pooling in his pajama bottoms. He colours. What had seemed so natural only moments ago, running their hands over each other, pushing their bodies together, now seems desperately embarrassing.

"Uh," he says, not sure where to look, or what to do with his hands. He wants very much to cover his face, but Sirius's hair is in the way. It's in his eyes. It's in his _mouth_. "Uh," he says, again, a little desperately.

"Mmph," Sirius mumbles, against his shoulder. Remus can't tell if he's embarrassed, too, or just incapable of forming coherent words. He' can't even tell if _he_ is capable of forming coherent words.

"Moony?"

Both boys jerk violently at the sound of James's voice, just inches away from the curtain. Sirius's head snaps up, and they stare wide eyed at each other, not daring even to breathe.

"Remus?"

"Um," Remus says, still staring at Sirius, big grey eyes disconcertingly close to his own, hoping James would mistake the discomfort in his voice for sleepiness. "Yes?"

"Oh, I thought you were having a nightmare or something, you were making funny noises."

Sirius sits up and makes a grab for one of Remus's pillows, stuffing it into his mouth, trying to muffle the sound of his laughter. Remus punches him softly on the arm, but he only laughs harder, burying his entire face in the pillow.

"Uh," Remus tries valiantly to keep his voice steady. "Well. Yes, I was.. having a nightmare. But I think you woke me up. Um. Thank you."

"No problem" says James. "Just checking. Night."

"Night, Prongs."

Remus fumbles on his bedside table for his wand, and whispers a new silencing spell at his curtains. The minute he's done, Sirius throws the pillow away and bursts out laughing, throwing his head back. After a moment, Remus begins to laugh, too, a little helplessly.

"Oh, Merlin, your face!" Sirius cries, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "How long do you reckon that spell was out for?"

"Oh, God," Remus says, covering his face with his hands. "You're the smart one, Padfoot, you're supposed to be _good _at spells!"

"I am _brilliant _at spells. It's just your curtains, they don't seem to like me. Nearly strangled me when I came in, too, the tricky buggers."

"The _curtains?_"

Sirius laughs again. He shifts position on the bed, and frowns, looking down at himself. He grabs his wand and mutters a spell at his pajama bottoms, before doing the same to Remus. Remus feels the slightly sticky dampness completely disappear, and has to fight the urge to pat at himself to see if it's really gone. Instead, he gives Sirius a questioning look.

"How on earth did you-"

"These are the things a man needs to learn, Moony," Sirius says, his authoritative tone belied by the redness of his face. Remus wants to ask again, but decides he's probably better off not knowing.

"It's no use giving me that disapproving look when I've just saved you, by the way," Sirius adds, crawling up the bed and settling in beside Remus. "Shove over" he says, pushing Remus's thigh out of the way with his knee. He shuffles about a bit until he's comfortable, and then closes his eyes.

"Uh," Remus says. "Why are you-"

"Because," Sirius replies, without opening his eyes. "Prongs won't think it's odd _at all_ if I come out of here just after you've been making, and I quote, _funny noises_."

Remus colours, and Sirius chuckles, his breath hot against Remus's neck.


	7. Test

**God, sorry it's taken so long to update! I've been on holidays for the past couple of months – but not to worry, I'm heading back at the end of the week and then I'll be back to being bored all the time and having lots of time to update xD**

---

When Remus's alarm wakes him the next morning, Sirius is gone. He wonders for a moment if perhaps he dreamed it all - but a black hair he discovers stuck to his cheek convinces him otherwise.

After a quick shower to rid himself of any incriminating evidence, he walks down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Sirius smiles when he spots Remus walking towards the table, and Remus has to fight the urge to break out into a big goofy smile right back. He stares self-conciously at his shoes, and almost trips over his chair trying to sit down.

He is just tucking into his second helping of scrambled eggs, all the while avoiding making eye contact with the boy sitting opposite him, when James leans conspiratorially across the table.

"You know what I heard?" He says, his voice low. "I heard that McGonagall is giving us a pop quiz today."

"What?" Peter gasps. "How can she _do _that?"

"How d'you know?" Sirius asks.

James opens his mouth to answer, but Remus interrupts him.

"Did you know about this yesterday? Why didn't you say something before?

"Children, children," James sighs. "One at a time."

"Seriously, though, you knew? It's first period James, we could have studied last-"

"Wormtail! In answer to your 'what', I will repeat, McGonagall is giving us a pop quiz in Transfiguration this morning. To your second question, she can_ do_ that because she is McGonagall, and therefore has evil powers bestowed upon her by the Gods that allow her to cause pain and suffering to all that she meets."

Remus snorts. Although the other marauders believe McGonagall to be the epitome of all things strict, deep down he realises that she is much more lenient with them than she perhaps should be. Peter makes a sad little noise.

"And Padfoot, you know I never reveal my sources," James adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"That means he overheard when he was eavesdropping on Evans, again." Sirius says, in a stage whisper. James throws a muffin at his head, without even turning to look at him.

"And finally, my dear Moony, it is entirely your own fault I didn't tell you yesterday."

"What? Why?" Remus splutters.

James rolls his eyes, shoving half a piece of toast into his mouth.

"Because," he says, spraying crumbs across the table. "You were being evil and keeping secrets from us. My man, marauder or no, there are certain lines a mate just cannot cross without due consequence."

"So which one was over the line?" Sirius says, an evil glint in his eye. "The part where he didn't tell us, or the part where it was _Evans_?"

Remus wants very much to kick Sirius under the table. Instead, he changes the subject.

"But there's a test? This morning? In-" he checks his watch "-less than half an hour?"

"Oh, yes," James says, looking smug. "But poor Moony won't have any time to study."

"The hell I won't," Remus says, making to stand up.

James laughs. He then, unceremoniously, empties the entire jug of pumpkin juice on Remus's shirt. Remus's mouth hangs open.

"Better go clean that up, hmm?" James says, blinking innocently.

---

As Remus is hurrying to Transfiguration - still smelling rather strongly of pumpkin even after a second shower - he can't help but feel somewhat sorry for his already tattered clothes. He was almost afraid to redress himself in a uniform, knowing as he does that this week seems to be their week of ruination.

He bursts into the room just in time to see McGonagall reprimanding Sirius. Remus tries to slip to his desk unnoticed, but his professor spots him sneaking past.

"Mr Lupin!"

Remus cringes. He turns.

"Um, yes Professor?"

"We are having a pop quiz this morning, open book," McGonagall says, and Remus feels himself relax somewhat. Open book, he can do. "However Mr Black has, of course, lost his textbook."

Sirius turns around, giving Remus a sheepish grin. Remus tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up.

"Well," he says, swallowing. "He can share mine, I suppose?"

"Of course not, Mr Lupin, we both know full well who would be doing all the work in _that _scenario. I'd like you to go and retrieve a spare textbook from the storeroom upstairs."

"Oh. Certainly, Professor."

Remus turns back to the door, and is surprised to see Sirius following him.

"Mr Black, where do you think you're going?"

Sirius stops. He turns back to McGonagall and smiles, attempting to look innocent.

"Well, I can stay if you want, Professor. But I'd hate to _distract_ anybody."

McGonagall looks at him suspiciously. She is obviously weighing in the pro's and con's of the situation - which would be worse, a prank or the sabotage of her student's work? After a moment, she sighs.

"Alright, but if you're not back in two minutes so help me.."

---

"I have no idea how you pulled that off," Remus says, as soon as the door is closed behind them.

"Rather easily really," Sirius says, grinning. "She'd rather I mess up her whole storeroom than mess up her precious class test. Besides, she trusts _you _to keep me in check."

Sirius gives him a sidelong look, and Remus feels his cheeks heating up slightly. He bites his bottom lip, trying not to smile. The whole thing is completely ridiculous - the both of them have been smiling stupidly all morning. He's almost surprised nobody has noticed. Perhaps, he muses, that's one of the benefits of being friends with a bunch of very odd people. Nobody will notice if you somehow behave a little odder.

When they arrive at the storeroom it is completely dark, and the air inside is stale and musty.

"Lumo-" Remus begins, but is interrupted by Sirius's hand over his mouth.

Sirius pushes him deeper into the room, and shuts the door behind them.

"Well," Remus says, his voice a little shaky. "That's helpful, now I can't see anything at all - though it's likely the textbook you're looking for is the one lodged in the bottom of my spine, it has a distinctively _Transfiguration-esque_ feel about it."

Sirius mutters a spell to lock the door. Remus blinks in the darkness.

"Um, Padfoot, don't you think-"

A shift in the stale air, a swish of robes, and Sirius is in front of him. With astonishing accuracy for somebody in a pitch black room, he kisses Remus on the mouth.

Everything Remus has ever stood for should be against this. He is _supposed_ to be in Transfiguration, doing the test that he was _supposed_ to know about in advance. Failing that, he is _supposed_ to be making sure Sirius isn't getting up to any kind of mischief. He certainly isn't supposed to be standing in the dark, dusty storeroom feeling his knees go weak as Sirius sucks gently on his bottom lip.

He should be against it all, but he isn't. And, he finds, he really doesn't care. At all.

Remus places his hands on either side of Sirius's face, drawing him closer and deepening their kiss. Sirius takes a step forward, so their bodies are touching almost from head to toe, and threads his hands into Remus's hair. He tugs lightly, right down at the roots, in a way that should be painful but somehow isn't. Remus lets out an involuntary moan, opening his eyes just in time to see Professor McGonagall opening the door.


	8. Judged

**So so so sorry for leaving you at a cliffhanger for so long xD **

---

Remus almost inhales Sirius's tongue. He starts making choking noises, unable to tear his eyes from McGonagall's horrified expression. Ridiculously enough, Sirius starts laughing, and it's only then that Remus realises that Sirius hasn't even noticed the shaft of light shining on them like some sort of absurd spotlight.

"Remus Lupin!"

Sirius jumps, spinning around so fast he almost falls over. Remus resists the urge to hide behind Sirius's hair.

"Professor!" Sirius cries. His voice is several octaves higher than usual. "I, uh. Was that- was that really two minutes just now?"

McGonagall opens and closes her mouth a few times, but no words come out. Remus notes that this is the first time he has ever rendered one of his professor's completely speechless. Somehow, this doesn't relax him at all. Silence stretches between them.

"Well," Sirius says, finally, deflating. "This is awkward, isn't it?"

Professor McGonagall shakes her head, as if to clear it, and fixes the boys with her sternest glare.

"Both of you, back to class," she says. "I expect you both to see me in my office at lunch this afternoon, where we can discuss your detention!"

---

Remus has never failed a test so badly in his life. To be fair, he hasn't actually got his results back yet, but the fact that he isn't even sure he answered enough questions to warrant a pass has put him in a bad mood about the whole thing.

Although, to tell the truth, he'd really rather think about the test than any of the other horrifying things that came to pass that morning.

"Oh, come on Moony," James says, slinging a brotherly arm about his shoulders. "Stop looking so tragic, it was just a test."

"Detention," Remus adds. "You forgot the part about the detention."

Peter laughs. "You guys got a detention? In two minutes? That's got to be a new record."

"Wormtail's right, that's definitely a personal best mate. What the hell did you do? McGonagall looked like she'd just seen Snivellus naked."

Remus feels his cheeks begin to grow hot.

"Set fire to a bunch of the textbooks," Sirius supplies, with a half smile. He avoids Remus's eyes.

Despite pretending to be perfectly fine, Sirius looks as though he's aged ten years in the space of one class - Remus wonders if it's as obvious to the others as it is to him. When James whoops and Peter claps him on the back enthusiastically, he concludes that it probably isn't.

---

Remus's classes pass by in the kind of blur that can only be achieved by the truly distracted. If asked, he probably could not even have recited what subjects he attended, let alone what his professors had been saying.

The walk to their detention is one of the most awkward of Remus's life - which is saying something. They walk at least a meter apart the entire way, and neither of them says a single word.

Remus feels as though something has curled up and died somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He's not sure which is more worrying - the fact that he's about to have to discuss with McGonagall being caught in the storeroom kissing his best friend, who is very, _very _male, or the fact that said best friend hasn't spoken to him directly since that morning.

Luckily, he doesn't have much time to dwell on either of these highly unpleasant realities, as McGonagall is waiting for them outside her office. Remus guesses that she doesn't trust them alone in the corridor, and the thought makes him feel slightly ill.

Sirius is fidgeting abominably. He looks as though he has actually managed to tangle one of his hands completely in his own hair. He doesn't even seem to notice, he just continues mussing it and twisting it around his fingers.

"One at a time, if you please," McGonagall says, sharply. "Mr Lupin?"

Remus wants to look back and give Sirius some kind of encouraging look, but he's really not sure how McGonagall would take it. He's not even sure how Sirius would take it, in his current state. Instead he opts to simply follow his professor into the office.

"And do try not to rip _all_ your hair out before I get back, Mr Black, that would be rather unbecoming" McGonagall calls, before shutting the door behind Remus.

She walks across the room and sits behind her desk, hands clasped, regarding Remus with a very serious stare.

"Well." he says, finally, because the silence is making him nervous.

"Well," McGonagall agrees.

There is another long silence. Remus isn't sure whether it is meant to build dramatic effect, or if McGonagall genuinely doesn't know what to say. He knows he is supposed to be apologizing, but just can't bring himself to do it. He looks at the floor, uncomfortably.

"Mr Lupin," McGonagall says. "I'm not entirely sure where to go with this one."

"Sorry?"

McGonagall removes her glasses and grimaces, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She lets out a long breath.

"I am not here to attempt to govern your social life, nor is it my place to do so," she looks up at him, her face unreadable. "That being said, however, I must ask. How long has this been going on?"

Remus looks down at the floor.

"Not very," he says, after a moment. He clears his throat. "And nothing- I mean, it's not that there's anything _going on_, as such, more that something just sort of, um, happened."

"Have you thought about this at all, Mr Lupin?" McGonagall asks, incredulously. Remus resists the urge to tell her just _how much_ he's been thinking about it - that doesn't seem to be the answer she's looking for. "You share a common room, a bathroom, a _bedroom_. There are no spells in place to keep either of you out of anywhere."

She sounds terribly distressed, as though she finds the whole idea quite horrifying. Remus realises that none of this had even occurred to him. He swallows.

"I-" Remus says, but McGonagall interrupts him.

"You are a Prefect. You are on the shortlist for Head Boy next year. If we can't trust you, Mr Lupin, can you honestly expect either of these things to work out for you?"

"Why can't you trust me?" Remus is about to add something about his involvement with pranks _already_, but stops himself just in time.

"It is already painfully obvious to us all that you allow your friends a very generous amount of slack. If this is to continue, it's safe to assume that this will get worse rather than better, do you agree?"

Remus shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Again, I am not here to govern your social activites," she raises an eyebrow on the word _activities_, and Remus colours. "But what I am here to do is try to ensure that you'll be a little _smarter_ about them. Does that sound fair to you?"

"Yes," he says, carefully. "I suppose."

"Good. Now, your detention will consist of cleaning the trophies in the trophy room. All of them, that is, and without a wand."

"_All_ of them?" Remus's jaw sags open. Of all the pranks he has ever been involved in, _half _the trophy room has been the greatest punishment he's ever served.

"Yes, all of them. Mr Black will be serving his detention elsewhere," McGonagall replaces her glasses, looking down at her notes in clear dismissal. "Send him in, please."


	9. Fight

**Yay, another update! Lol.**

**Just to clarify, they got detention because public displays of affection + wagging a test = heaps of trouble, not because they're gay or anything xD**

---

The detention is by far the longest and most difficult Remus has ever served, and by the time he finally staggers up to his room it is long past 3 in the morning. He glances at Sirius's bed, but the drapes are still open and it lies empty.

He half expects his friend to be waiting for him in _his_ bed, but when he reaches it his sheets are cold and undisturbed. Remus climbs in, exhausted, and although he has every intention of waiting up for Sirius and finding out what's going to happen now, he falls asleep almost immediately.

---

Remus is an expert in awkward, but the next few days teach him that there is a whole new realm of awkwardness he had never even known to exist. It's a subtle kind of awkward, a silent one that he's almost positive only he can feel.

When Sirius plonks himself down beside him at breakfast, he feels it. When one of the Ravenclaw girls from his party tries to flirt with Sirius in the hallway, he feels it. When he and Sirius reach for the same flask of newt oil in potions and their hands touch for just a moment before they both jerk away as if burned - he feels it.

He's not sure if Sirius can feel it. He _is_ sure that he will never get the chance to ask him, and that even if he does he won't have the courage to do so.

It's a terrible kind of awkward. By the fourth day, Remus has taken to hiding in the library.

He tells himself he's studying, that he's doing his homework, that it's all very important, but the fact of the matter is that he is hiding. He has managed to avoid being alone with Sirius since the night of their detentions, believing this to be the best tactic, all things considered.

He assumes that Sirius agrees with him, if his sudden and great interest in his and James' latest prank is anything to go by. The pair have been very secretive, discussing nothing but their grand scheme for days now. Remus has spent most of his time with Peter.

But now James is at Quidditch practice, Peter is in detention, and Remus is _definitely _hiding. He stares blankly at his books.

"Wotcher, Moony," Sirius says, making Remus jump and bang his knees painfully on the bottom of the table. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were, you know, _avoiding_ me."

Sirius makes himself comfortable, sitting down opposite Remus and unceremoniously shoving his books out of the way to make room for his feet on the tabletop. His boots are muddy. Remus twitches.

"I'm not avoiding you," he says, not meeting Sirius's eyes. He makes a move to salvage his books, and Sirius kicks his arm lightly.

"You are! You won't even look at me," Sirius starts prodding his arm with his boot. "I'm rather nice to look at, you know, you're missing out."

Remus can feel his face heating up, and tries to ignore it. Very slowly and deliberately, he looks up. One corner of Sirius's mouth lifts in a small grin. Remus feels his breath hitch and looks quickly back down at his books.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

"Of course not, because I'm not _avoiding_ you," Remus says, sighing. "I'm trying to study, Padfoot. Some of us can't just shoot perfect grades out our rears."

"What can I say, it's a gift."

Silence stretches between them. Remus stares at his books, hoping that he is creating an effective illusion of study. He can't even remember what he's supposed to be reading about.

Sirius starts prodding him again. Remus can feel his patience thinning with every prod, and when he risks a glance at his arm and notices the growing muddy stain on his sleeve, he lets out a soft and completely involuntary growl. Sirius starts, and jerks his feet away.

"Did you just_ growl _at me?"

"I am trying to study. You are prodding me. There is mud."

"You did, you growled at me!"

Remus closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, stop it," Sirius says, his tone suddenly bitter. "If you've got something to say, Remus, just bloody say it and get it over with."

Remus freezes. He opens his eyes very slowly, and sees Sirius glaring at him. Very few have mastered the art of the _glare_ like Sirius Black. Remus swallows, and fiddles with his tie.

"I don't think I know what you mean," he says, quietly.

"The hell you don't."

"Well, alright. I just- I don't really think I have anything to say. About that," Remus looks down at his hands.

Usually, Remus Lupin tries to say the sort of things he thinks people like Sirius Black and James Potter and Peter Pettigrew want him to say. Ever since he became a 'Marauder', he has learned that there are parts of himself that need to be censored, little thoughts in the back of his mind like nostalgia and pity and all manner of other things that normal teenage boys aren't supposed to think.

Unfortunately, he can't think of any precedent at all that deals with kissing your best mate on the mouth - let alone one that deals with both parties enjoying it all very much, and then getting caught by their head of house practically going at it in the supply room.

Finally, Sirius swings his feet back onto the floor. He fixes Remus with a look.

"Would you stop? Just _once_, can you honestly say what you're actually thinking?" He demands, sourly.

"_Me?_" Remus says, incredulously. "_Me_ say what I'm actually thinking? _You're_ the one who-"

"_Me?_ What the fuck did _I_ do?"

"Everything! I didn't even know what- and you just- and now! And now!" Remus gestures between them, aware of the fact that he probably looks insane, but not caring very much. "Now look!"

"_You _didn't even- _I'm_ the one who's got to listen to McGonagall yell at me about soiling your perfect Prefectly virtue and how it's all my fault if you don't get bloody Head Boy and-"

"What?"

Sirius clips his mouth shut, as though just realising he's said too much. He glares at the table.

"McGonagall said that to you?" Remus asks, after a moment.

"Of course she did," Sirius snaps. "And I- why? What did she say to you?"

"Well, pretty much the same thing, I suppose," Remus says, slowly. "Except that it would all be _my _fault, you see, for letting you get me into this mess in the first place."

Sirius doesn't say anything.

"I don't- I don't really think it makes any difference, though," Remus offers. "I mean, if they were going to prevent me from being Head Boy because of who I hang around with then, well. I wasn't ever seriously in the running in the first place, was I?"

Sirius looks up and meets Remus's eyes.

"You're not going to be Head Boy," Sirius says. It sounds like a question.

Remus has never seen Sirius look so unsure. It suddenly occurs to him that maybe _he_ doesn't know what's going on, anymore than Remus does.

"I doubt it. And I didn't really have much, um, 'prefectly virtue' left either, I don't think," Remus says, smiling ruefully and hoping that Sirius gets his meaning.

Sirius smiles back, looking genuinely relieved. He stands up, walking around to Remus's side of the table. He sits down next to Remus, and reaches over to hold his hand. He threads their fingers together, and taps the back of Remus's hand absently with his thumb.

"So this is, uh. This is okay?" Sirius says. "No more avoiding me like I've got some sort of hideous contagious disease?"

"Not until you actually get one. Padfoot does spend an inordinate amount of time rolling about in the mud, it's not entirely unlikely."

Sirius laughs, leans over, and kisses Remus lightly on the lips.


	10. Heat

Not wanting to risk being caught, especially after last time, the two retreat up to Gryffindor tower. It takes most of Remus's self control not to hold Sirius's hand all the way there, instead they both walk with their hands in their pockets, every now and then glancing at one another and smiling or bursting into fits of laughter. It's insane, really, they're like a couple of schoolgirls, but Remus doesn't mind, and for once he can tell what Sirius is thinking - and he knows that he doesn't mind, either.

Unfortunately, the minute they stumble through the portrait hole they're greeted by Peter, just out of detention and full of pent-up frustration after spending the last two hours helping Professor Binns mark first year test papers.

"I nearly died," he moans, collapsing onto one of the lounge chairs next to the fire. "I didn't even know half the answers. First year! As if I remember back that far."

James chooses that moment to burst into the common room, sweaty and covered in mud. Even though the Quidditch season hasn't officially begun, he has still taken it upon himself to get in as much practice as humanly possible before their first match. He wants to break the school record for the shortest game - nobody has the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn't impress Lily at all.

"Christ," he says, his smile stark and white against the grime on his face. "Ravenclaw are getting their arses handed to them next month!"

He throws himself down next to Peter, still grinning, and Remus's mind recoils at the sight of James's muddy quidditch robes seeping dampness into the fabric of the chair. He makes a mental note not ever to sit in that particular spot with clean robes again.

Glancing sideways, he notices Sirius biting the inside of his lip, trying not to laugh.

"How long'd it take to get it this time?" He asks, hiding his mirth under an encouraging smile.

"Twenty-five minutes, not a minute over. I caught it in my _mouth,_ Padfoot, that's how epic I have become."

"That sounds wrong," Peter says, closing his eyes. James smacks him on the shoulder.

"Potter!" A feminine voice, raised in anger, calls across the room. The voice is soon followed by Lily, storming towards them, glaring. "Is there something wrong with the showers at the quidditch pitch?"

"Uh," James says, looking up at her with a cross between great admiration and great fear. "I don't think so?"

"So then you've _chosen_ to come up here and spread filth all over the common room?"

"Filth?" James says, weakly. Lily gestures at trail of wet, sloppy footprints leading from the portrait hole to his current location. Sirius laughs.

"It's called marking one's territory, Evans," he says. "Be thankful he has chosen to use grime rather than any other form of-"

"And don't think I don't know what you're doing," Lily says, turning to Sirius and glaring. Sirius chokes on the end of his sentence, and Remus feels suddenly cold all over.

"As if you don't torment him enough already!" Lily cries.

Remus is just thinking, _but they don't torment me_, until Lily interrupts him.

"I _will_ go to McGonagall," she says. "I don't want to be that girl, but I will, if that's the only way to make you stop."

Remus risks a glance at Sirius, and notices a little of the colour leave his face at the word _McGonagall_.

"Stop what?" Peter says, looking confused and a little scared.

"As if you don't know! Your latest wondrous plan to get Severus!"

Remus lets out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Unfortunately, this only draws attention to himself.

"Honestly, Remus," Lily says, rounding on him this time. "I don't know how or _why_ you put up with these _wankers, _but you'd better bloody stop them or _I_ will."

And with that, she storms away.

"Well," Sirius says, jovially. "I can certainly tell what you see in her, Prongs."

---

The rest of the evening passes by painfully slowly. Sirius and James are still planning their prank, despite Lily's warning. As it turns out, they're trying to plan a way to turn all of Snape's clothes invisible, but in such a way that he won't realise it. The whole idea makes Remus cringe - he's definitely not a fan of Snape's, but that doesn't mean he enjoys seeing him humiliated, especially in that manner. Still, he knows his warning would have about the same effect as Lily's - that is, absolutely none - and so he says nothing, instead opting to help Peter with his charms homework.

Every now and then Remus catches Sirius's eye by accident, and he has to look away hurriedly, before he turns red or starts grinning like a lunatic. He is trying very hard to concentrate on Peter's homework, but his mind keeps wandering, thinking about what will happen that night after everybody else has gone to sleep.

He's never thought of himself as the kind of teenage boy who would be easily preoccupied by such things, but apparently even he has his limits. The wait until eleven thirty, when they all finally head up to bed, is excruciating.

Sirius doesn't even bother to open the curtains this time, he just sneaks underneath them. Even though he's expecting him, Remus almost has a heart attack when Sirius jumps up from under the bed and lands on top of him, for more reasons than one. He hasn't even the time to make a sort of mandatory protest before Sirius's mouth engulfs his in a hungry kiss.

They continue along that vein for a moment, until Remus feels as though he's about to burst from lack of oxygen. He flings one hand out to his bedside table, reaching for his wand, and managing to knock over about six million other things he for some reason considered urgent enough to keep on his bedside table at all times.

He pulls away from Sirius, gasping, and breathes a silencing spell at his curtains. Sirius doesn't miss a beat, and while Remus's mouth is otherwise occupied Sirius puts his tongue to good use, running it around Remus's ear and nibbling on his earlobe. As soon as the silencing spell is done, Remus lets out a groan.

"God," he gasps, grabbing Sirius by the hair and pulling their mouths back together. Sirius smiles against his lips, tongue flicking hot and wet inside Remus's mouth.

This isn't the same as the other times, Remus can tell, though he hadn't thought that their finally discussing the situation would have made this much of a difference. It seems as though they've signed their inhibitions away, and with them, they've signed their brains away in care of their hormones - but Remus can't even bring himself to feel anything bad about it. All he can feel is Sirius's mouth moving against his, and Sirius's hands buried in his hair, and Sirius's body moving rhythmically against his own.

"Fuck," Sirius says. He pulls back, and grabs the bottom of Remus's pajama shirt, forcing it up over his head before leaning back down to kiss him. Remus knows he should be embarrassed - though of course they have all seen one another in various states of undress before, the circumstances have never been anything like this - but he finds that he isn't. He feels powerful, in a way he has never felt before.

Remus has had his issues with power. Spending one night a month with absolutely no power over his own body has taught him that power is something he needs to earn, rather than a right he is born to. When he sucks gently on Sirius's bottom lip and feels him draw in a sharp breath, he feels as though that he has _earned_ the right to use this power. Not only that, but he _wants_ to use it. Badly.

It suddenly occurs to Remus that shirts aren't the problem here, quite obviously it's their pants that are getting in the way. Without a second thought, he reaches one hand down towards the elastic in Sirius's pajama shorts. Sirius chooses this moment, whether by coincidence or careful planning, to push harder against Remus, causing Remus's hand to slip beneath the fabric and suddenly, instead of grasping his target, Remus is only grasping Sirius himself.

Sirius makes a very odd sound. In different circumstances, Remus probably would have laughed.

"Oh, fuck Moony" Sirius says, his voice a little high and his breath hot and fast against Remus's lips. He twitches. "Your hand is cold."

Remus laughs, embarrassed, and makes to remove his hand, but Sirius's comes down on top of it. It's impossibly warm, and also a little sweaty.

"Didn't say you had to stop."

It feels odd, in a strange and slightly perverse way, for Remus to be doing these motions and not feeling it on his own body. Although he has taken great pains to never be like Peter and get caught wanking where anybody could catch him, it doesn't mean that Remus has never done it before. And often enough to know even without Sirius's little gasping noises that he's good at it.

Encouraged by Sirius's sounds of enjoyment, Remus makes another grab, this time reaching his mark, and yanks Sirius's pajama bottoms down. Sirius pulls back, reaching for Remus's elastic, and Remus is greeted unexpectedly with the sight of Sirius Black, heartthrob of half the school, completely naked and completely aroused. He makes an involuntary sound, just as Sirius pulls off Remus's remaining clothes and the cold night air hits his body. The sound changes midway into a choked gasp, and Sirius laughs wickedly.

"Told you it was cold," he says, leaning back down and kissing Remus on the collarbone. "Still, I think we might be able to find a way to warm up, hmm?"

On the words 'warm up', Sirius lowers himself down onto Remus's naked body. He is right, it is very, very warm.

"Oh, my God," Remus says, beginning to feel as though the lower half of his body is melting into the bed. He makes a tentative movement, a slight shift in the position of his hips, and Sirius inhales sharply.

"Merlin," Sirius gasps, in a voice that doesn't sound like his own.

"No," Remus says. His voice cracks a little, but he doesn't notice. "Only me."

"Prat," Sirius says, but makes no move to accompany the insult with the usual friendly punch on the shoulder. Remus is glad, he feels as though if either of them makes any sudden movement, the moment will be lost.

Very, very slowly, they begin to move together. They kiss slowly, in rhythm with their movements. After a time, Sirius slips a hand between them, and Remus follows suit.

It doesn't take long before Remus can feel a familiar build up of heat deep in his belly. It's much stronger this time, and he makes a low noise. Sirius swallows it.

"Oh," Sirius says, suddenly. The rhythm of his movements becomes disjointed, and his breath shortens in Remus's ear. Remus can feel his hand becoming slick as he strokes faster. Sirius bites down on Remus's shoulder, growling hard against his skin.

"Fuck!" Remus gasps into Sirius's hair, fighting the urge to cry out louder. He feels a pool of warmth on his stomach moments before he creates one of his own.

They both lie still for a time, unable to move, and breathing as though they've run a marathon. Finally, Sirius rolls over and fumbles through the jumble of clothes to retrieve his wand. He mutters the cleaning charm, his voice cracking.

Nothing happens.

Sirius frowns, and says the spell again, louder this time, but still nothing. Remus clears his throat. His voice comes out a little raspy.

"Do you want me to-?"

"Sure," Sirius says, still frowning slightly. He recites the spell to Remus, handing him his wand. It works on his first try.

"That's odd," Remus says.

"Very much so," Sirius agrees. He shakes his head once, as if to clear it, making his hair flop into his face. Then he looks down at Remus and smiles, a little goofily. Remus can't help but smile back.

Sirius kisses Remus's lips, softly, smiling against his mouth. Then he pushes Remus onto his side and curls up behind him, dropping a kiss on his shoulder.

"You're right about one thing," Sirius says, as he slides an arm around Remus's waist. "Definitely no prefectly virtue left."

Remus laughs. "Never mind, I wasn't using it for anything anyway. Obviously."

Remus tentatively slips a hand down to Sirius's, threading their fingers together. He feels a small thrill along his spine when Sirius gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he's worrying about everything - what if his hand starts sweating all over Sirius's hand? What if he snores? What if he drools in his sleep, or rolls over and squashes Sirius in the middle of the night? What if he somehow manages to _ruin everything _with his own inexperience and ineptitude?

Somehow, though, these worries and questions are overridden by a warm, pleasant feeling in Remus's chest. Instead of falling asleep to the questions in his own mind, he drifts of listening to the sound of Sirius's soft breathing in his ear.


End file.
